


Sweet Taste of Adoration

by maraudersreign



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Breeding Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Married Dramione, Praise Kink, Skirt Fetish, Skirt Kink, Smut, Uniform Kink, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:07:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29423538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersreign/pseuds/maraudersreign
Summary: “You do deserve it… and I do love the way you react when you get it.” She pointed her wand at his chest as she smirked, licking her bottom lip.He couldn’t make another move as he watched her robe turn to…Fuck.. fuck..His eyes widened as he saw the black robe materialize into her old Hogwarts uniform.It’s Valentine’s Day.. and Draco Malfoy takes his wife to France — he has always had a thing for her in a skirt, Hermione returns the favor, decide’s she’ll give him his perfect gift.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 12
Kudos: 197





	Sweet Taste of Adoration

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine’s Day, loves! I very much hope you enjoy this one-shot! I feel it has the perfect mix of fluff and smut... I love an adoring Draco.. so.. here you go ;)

_Fuck._

_11:45 pm._

Any minute now and he’d ruin his own plans to surprise her. He lifted his things off the rest of his desk — the one he had barely occupied in the last week, he had been preparing for his ornat gift for his wife — Hermione Granger-Malfoy. 

_Valentine's Day._

He wanted to get started as soon as the clock hit midnight. 

He’d done as much as he could to prepare them for France, somewhere she hadn’t stopped going on about the last few years. _Oh_. Yes, Paris. The city that’d promise to bring great fortunes and twist your heart for the better half of your stay, as you try to find love in a city full of romance. Draco hadn’t been the best at that aphorism, even if Hermione had gasped at his attempts to make her favorite meals — he would utterly fail every single time. 

His own ventures had managed to swoon her more times than not, choking back soft laughs as she’d sip on her wine — quite the expensive taste, he might add. _His_ taste sure had rubbed off on her. 

Hermione and Draco had been officially married for the better half of five years, their marriage had been a shock to most wizards and witches. His mother, well, she’d asked Hermione over for tea their first month of dating, that’d lead to a trip to Italy and too much alcohol and as Hermione had put it — too much talk of the foreseeable future of their magical bond and _— children._

_Children._

They’d been together for quite some time and had yet to pop a few out of their own. His mother of course had been impatient, his father shared the same feelings. 

He and Hermione had around maybe… four conversations about starting a family? There hadn’t been too much talk, because they knew when they had been ready, he would gladly give her children. He’d spent the better half of five years _practicing._ When work wasn’t too much, or even if it had been, they’d both come home and absolutely ravish the other in no time. Spending each moment trying to _mark_ the other in the most coarse and obscene ways. He loved her all the more for it. 

Of course, that is how their relationship had come to spark. Eighteen years old and the tension… the build up of absolute _hate_ for years. It had gotten to them both, so much so, after they’d had both come back to Hogwarts — Hermione given the choice and Draco, well, he’d been on probation and had been ordered to go back. _Lucky him._ They’d find each other in empty classrooms, bending her over an old desk. Demanding she’d lift her skirt for him, diving into serenity inside her as he’d tell her how much he loved to fuck her with her skirt bunched up around her waist. The feel of her, almost burning him every time. 

Years later — and Draco had still been quite fond of that look on her, getting off on seeing her in a short school skirt, wearing her old uniform… he’d fucking tear through her every time he’d got her to wear it for him. 

Pulling him from his thoughts, he’d nearly tripped from anxiety and utter excitement as he picked up a handful of powder, throwing it into the fireplace of his office as he floo’d back to their home. 

_11:55 pm_

He’d wasted his own precious time from his bloody overthinking. He’d ran his hands through his white-blond hair, leaving it messy while rolling up the white sleeves of his shirt. He had planned 12 am to be the set time. _This was for her._ She’d been anticipating this for ages, and he’d already messed up the idea of taking her early — right before they made their way to France. 

Though — she hadn’t yet been aware of this trip. This trip to a place she’d spent hours talking to him about, words he hadn’t really remembered, but he’d stayed mesmerized by the sweet sound of her voice. The angelic tone she’d managed to have even after their banters. He’d submerge himself in everything that was _her,_ he’d do it if it had been possible. He’d do it because his heart ached for her. He hadn’t ever thought of a time where she'd unscramble the pieces of his being she’d mend together all those years ago. No, it would never be bloody possible. 

It was all the same. His affections ran deep— just like they always had. So, when it came to something as special as this — as special as _her,_ he had to make sure it was perfect. Gathering their stuff in secret, as he watched her sleep soundlessly on their four-poster, he’d watch the way her chest would slowly rise and then fall, he’d eyed the movement so closely, counting every breath she took. 

_11:57 pm._

Sitting on the empty area that she'd left untouched beside her, he stretched his hand out, his long-pale fingers tracing circles around her tinged cheeks. Small sounds left her mouth, as she looked up at him, opening her eyes as slowly as possible. _Good god woman, could you make me fail at this anymore than I already am._

That thought had crossed his mind, as his breath hitched, watching her stare up into his grey swirls. She’d done more than imagine the way the moon had gleaned off them already, as it’s luminescences shone through the large window of their bedroom. 

“Darling, I need you to get up and be ready, quickly.” He rushed, taking some of her hair and placing it gently behind her ear. 

She looked at him, rubbing her eyes, her hair on the right side of her shoulder — her expression confused and tired. 

“Whatever for?” She asked, sleep had coated her voice. 

His hand slid up her arm slowly, feeling her soft skin. His heart melted. 

“No questions, just find one of your favorite dresses and hurry, please.” His lips turned to a smirk, his eyes glinted with adoration as he took in the sight of his wife. 

He had meant it when he asked her _no questions —_ because of course they’d never make if she had kept talking, asking him why the bloody hell he’d woken her up at nearly twelve am. She tried to stop him, tried to get him to tell her more, but he didn’t. He let her talk to herself as he vanished. 

He walked down the long corridor of their home — smirking to himself as he thought of all the _memories_ they’d be making in their hotel room in Paris. The clock ticking in his mind had told him it was midnight. Standing by the fireplace, he had a black coat on, one that made him look absolutely _divine — as_ Hermione had put it every time she had the pleasure of seeing him in it. The way his muscles were tightly squeezed. The thought of that– well… it made her thighs clench and her heart speed up. The words would always stay fresh in his mind, because just as she was approaching him, she said the exact same thoughts. Crossing her arms, looking him up and down. 

The sound of her heels against the marble floor, vibrating through his body as his eyes skid across the mouth watering appearance of her. Her dress black, short and tight in all the right places. 

“Like what you see, Malfoy?” She smirked, as she walked closer towards him, her hands meeting his face, she cupped his chin and gave him a soft kiss. 

“You know I do, _Mrs. Malfoy,”_

_12:00 am_

The clock ticked loudly in his mind as he grabbed her waist and floo’d them to their hotel in France. 

She hadn’t questioned him any further. Being married to Draco Malfoy, she’d learn not to say too much about anything — of course, being who she was, she’d try to argue from time to time, but some things just weren’t ever up to her own thought process. She would let him do that.

They arrived, Draco’s palms sweating as he waited for her reaction.

They stood in a large room, one of different shades. The walls. Cream and light grey. There was a large outdoor patio, one that you could sit and enjoy the view of the Eiffel Tower. He watched her eyes dance around the room, her cheeks tinged with the brightest of reds. She walked to the large four-poster bed that you couldn’t miss as soon as you’d entered the area. The sheets red, silk and ones he’d thought about ruining her _all_ week on. 

Who said you had to spend one day celebrating Valentine’s Day, when it was Paris you brought your wife to? 

_Oh yes, it’d be well over a day._

She let the back of her thighs hit the high bed, crashing into it as her hands stretched out beside her, feeling the silk of the sheets. 

He heard her laugh, as he walked towards her. 

“Paris worth a laugh at, _Granger_?” He let her last name slip longingly off his tongue, he towered over her, the tips of his fingers finding her chin, lifting it to look him in the eyes. 

“I— just _wow._ You knew how long I’d been wanting to come here, but with everything going on at the ministry, I really never thought I’d catch a break— _and now._ You’ve managed to drag me out of our bed at midnight, forcing me not to say a word— because you know what I’m going to say next. What did you tell Kingsley? Does he know I won’t be back for a while— because I’m in fucking Paris and I intend to make my stay of it, so _please_ . Tell me you’ve made a compelling argument, I do _not_ want to have a conversation with him right now.” She went on and _on_ , as she looked into his eyes, hoping for some response that’d settle her nerves. 

His grip on her chin tightened. 

“Don’t worry, darling… everything has been sorted accordingly. You will have your wine and we’ll have time to do _all_ you want here.” He leaned down, smothering her in a wet kiss. He tried to deepen it as soon as she lifted off the bed. 

“Not yet.. I want to see the bath!” She shouted excitedly, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked around the room. 

“Please, do tell me where the bath is in this obnoxiously _enormous_ room.” Her hands on her hips, as she tilted her head at him. 

Draco laughed, his fingers ran through his messy white-blond hair as his other hand pointed in the direction of the bath. 

“How are you not still tired, love?” He asked. 

“You take a girl to France and expect her to waste any time while she’s here? I’ll sleep when I’m very well ready to, thank you very much.” Those were the last words she said as he watched her dance her way into the other room. 

* * *

“When are you going to finally let me get my hands on you, Hermione?” He asked, as he sighed. 

She’d spent an hour in water, rose petals had filled the outline of the tub. 

Now — she was sitting in a black silk robe, the hem of it stopping at her thighs, that Draco couldn’t take his eyes off. She looked even more beautiful like this — so raw as she finally got the chance to be in a place of serenity. Her chest-nut, curly hair was down, droplets of water coated the line of her neck and jawline. 

“ _Oh,_ you can wait. I’m busy taking in the feel of this right now.” She smiled at him over her shoulder, sipping on her tea. 

He’d been standing behind her. They were on the patio of their room, it was quite large. Black railing, the shape of flower stems in full view. There was a white, oval table and two large armchairs that sat right across from the other. The sky full of stars, one that made Hermione’s skin _glow._ She’d always looked like an angel, that he was so sure of. One that had taken a fucking arrow to his heart, one that dripped of blood and gold as it dived head first into his arteries. It twisted in his chest, making him fall harder for her. He’d been in hell for years and she’d put out the flames that crowded him. 

“I want to be busy with you taking in the feel of _me,_ right now. You want that?” He asked her, the words vibrating through her body as his voice was low. 

“Draco…” 

Her heart was hammering in her chest, his sudden request to feel _her_ , had brought on her own arousal. 

“You can look out this very large window of ours, as I fuck into you from behind and look at the Effle Tower…. yeah?” His hands were traveling through her hair, as much as he could, daring not to tug at it as she squeezed her eyes together. 

His words — _oh…_ they had always done something vicious to her, brought out the side only he’d had the true pleasure of getting. 

She yanked her head out of his vice grip on her hair, rising up from the chair, she turned to him and planted her hands on his chest. 

“I suppose… you _do_ deserve something for getting me out of work.. and surprising me with a trip to France. After all, it is Valentine’s— so, go get in the bed and wait for me.” Her eyes glittered and he immediately found his way to the bed. 

* * *

He sat back against the headboard, his clothes still attached to his body as he crossed his arms waiting for her. 

He’d been smirking to himself as he saw her walk up to the end of the bed, her silk robe still tight around her. He watched her call for her wand. 

She’d had an expression he’d been all too familiar with. Her cheeks flushed and a curve playing on the creases of her lips. She twirled the wand through her right hand, watching the movements, not making any eye contact with him. 

“You’ve done everything so perfectly so far and it’s only been a mere few hours. I’d never thought I’d have the chance to come here— and now you’ve made it possible. I suppose I owe you something perfect as well, something I know you rarely get, that you think about as you watch me work.” The wand nearly flicked in her hand, mimicking casting movements before she crawled into the bed before him, sitting on her knees. 

_Oh.. this woman.._

His eyes falling to the way the robe had ridden up her thighs, giving him a taste of what he wanted most. 

He let her speak. He let her do everything as he felt her move herself on top of him. She straddled him, her knees on either side of him, brackening him in. 

“ _Fuck…”_ The word sounded like heaven off his tongue. 

“You do deserve it… and I do _love_ the way you react when you get it.” She pointed her wand at his chest as she smirked, licking her bottom lip. 

He couldn’t make another move as he watched her robe turn to… 

_Fuck.. fuck.._

His eyes widened as he saw the black robe materialize into her old Hogwarts uniform. 

The way her mind worked… oh he fucking loved it. 

This time — the skirt had been a bit shorter, there were no robes, just the white button up that did absolutely _nothing_ to hide her chest. Her Gryffindor tie loose around her neck. 

She threw the wand to the ground, feeling as his hands grabbed into her hips. Pulling her forward to where— _she had nothing covering her cunt_. He felt the warmth seep into his center.

“You’re going to fucking kill me… wearing this— what do you possibly expect from me now? I’m definitely going to leave you screaming till you can’t fucking talk for the next week..” He said breathlessly as his lips came crashing into hers. 

Her hands threaded through his hair, pulling on it slightly as she felt his hips piston up into her own, making her whimper into their heated kiss. His tongue finding its way deep, nearly fucking her mouth. 

“I can feel you burning me Hermione..” He said dangerously low between their kiss, he gripped her hips harder as he flipped them over, her back hitting the mattress. He pulled her roughly towards his hips, his hands wrapped around her thighs. 

She whimpered.

“Mmm… those noises you’re making. You like wearing this for me just as much as I like you wearing it for me. Spread those legs a little more for me, don’t get shy on me now, love…” His hands rubbed around her thighs as he looked at her. 

“Please…” she begged, her eyes glassy. 

He knew exactly what she wanted — exactly what she _needed._

He made a low groan in the back of his throat. 

“Lift this skirt up for me and I want you to hold it there and watch me fuck your cunt with my tongue.” He demanded. 

She obeyed almost immediately as her fingers went to the hem of her skirt, pulling it up slowly to her stomach, exposing herself for him. She felt the air hit her centre. 

His cheeks felt hot as he stared down at her, looking beautiful as she always did for him. 

She spread her legs wider, her fingers came between her folds and pulled them apart. Her wetness glistening in the light of the room. 

“Fucking perfect,” he almost moaned the words as his head lowered between her thighs, he moved her fingers out the way, his tongue coming into contact with the bud. 

He looked up at her. 

“Eyes on me, _Granger.._ I want you to watch how I make you come on my face.” He yanks on her thighs one more time, she makes small whimpers as she tries to cover her face. 

His other hand travels up her stomach and then lands the hand that’s covering her flustered face. He pulls it away. 

“Don’t get shy on me now.. watch, watch how good I make you feel.” He says as his tongue starts to flick around her clit, she nods her head at him as he sucks hard. 

Her thighs start to move around his waist, he notices the movement she makes and flings them around his shoulders, lifting her back up off the mattress, he dives in faster, letting his tongue lap up and down her slit, taking in all her wetness. She feels his own groans vibrate on her clit. 

“Oh— _Draco.. oh fuck..”_ Her voice nearly breathless as he latches down harder, sucks harder, he adds two digits inside her, feeling her heat radiate off him — making her thighs tremble. He knows all the places that make her tick, that make her want to scream his name out till she can’t possibly speak any longer. That’s what he focuses on — what he always has. Watching every little thing that makes her squirm — makes her hips crash harder into his face and move against his tongue, fucking herself. 

“ _You_ taste so fucking good.. won’t ever get enough..” Another low groan hits the back of his throat as he holds her tighter against the bed, let’s her move her hips — he loves the way she nearly suffocates him, taking in her taste and her smell, that’s like floral and _citrus_. It’s the closest thing he has ever gotten to tranquility as he relishes in the way her vocal cords threaten to give out, and the way she finally tips over that edge as she squeezes his head between her thighs. She holds him there, riding out her orgasm. 

“ _Draco.._ you’re making me come.. _I’m—”_ Her chest heaves and he can tell she sees white behind her eyelids, watching her squeeze them tight, he watched her mouth turn to a smile. 

“ _Fuck…_ your mouth, _Malfoy..”_ She had nearly laughed as she scoots up, leaning on her elbows, her hair messy and sweat beading off the side of her neck. 

He takes in the way she looks post-orgasm. Always so beautiful, always catches himself mesmerized as he watches her come. Her face flushed red — her nose and eyes twisted up, sometimes her mouth falls open in a soundless scream. He swears sometimes it’s the most beautiful she looks as he gives her everything that makes her fall into fucking _nirvana._

He makes paths up and down her exposed legs, feeling the way her come drips down the inside of her thighs — his fingers run over the liquid and he brings them up to his mouth. Her eyes widen, still flushed from her body tipping over, he can tell he does even more to her as he sucks on his fingers, the ones he had just fucked her with. 

“Here, I want you to taste yourself,” His hand snaked around her neck, bringing it up towards his face, inching closer. Her lips had made it on his first as she tugged on his hair. Pulling him closer — _tasting herself._ His pants had felt tighter. 

“I wanna make you feel good too..” Hermione said putting her forehead to his, breathing hard, their breaths nearly intertwined as she rocks against him — her legs now wrapped around his hips. “Please.. feel good with me, Draco.” He smirked, dragging his hand down to her throat, it rested there and then suddenly he had knocked her back hard against the bed, with his hand squeezing the perfect spots of her airways, where she threatens to pass out — it’s only a moment before his other hand went to his belt, ripping it off. 

“Turn around, get on your knees, I want your hands around your back — _now.”_ He groans, while he had continued to rip the rest of his clothes off his body. He kept his belt, planning to wrap the leather around her wrists and pin her to the bed. 

He could hear her giggle in excitement as she planted her knees into the mattress, waiting for what he does next. 

“Remember, if I do anything to hurt you, don’t forget our safeword, I love you.” He kissed her on her neck, as he wrapped the belt around her wrists in a tight restraint. 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah.. it’s good” 

He lifted her skirt up, his cock sliding up and down her silt — teasing her. 

“ _Draco…_ please, please,” she begged.

He rewards her by the invasion that made her whimper into the sheets. 

Her warmth engulfed him — earning a loud moan from both of them. 

He doesn’t move, he let himself take in the feel of her, _just like he’d promised._

His hips begging to move, needs to move, as his left hand wrapped around the belt, tugging on it. 

“Please move.. ” she moaned one more time. 

He snickered, wanting her to _beg_ for it. Wanting her to tell him how badly she needed it. _Needed him._

His hips made small motions. He teased her more, as he waited for her to beg for it. Her cunt squeezing him like a fucking vice. 

Her hips slammed against his. 

“ _Fuck!_ Hermione… don’t move. You’re too fucking tight.” 

“I need you to move, Draco— please, _oh gods...”_ She craned her head to the side, her hair falling over her shoulder. 

He’d found the perfect position and he gave her exactly what she needed. His hips pistoned forward, the sound of skin echoed through their room as he pushed her into the bed harder — _faster._

He bent down, the front of his chest covering her back as he fucked her. His breath against her ear as he whispered _filthy_ words to her. His voice vibrated through her whole body, setting them both on fire.

“So good.. feel so fucking good wrapped around me.. _Yeah..”_

 _“_ Harder… fuck me harder—” 

“Such a good fucking girl for me.. come on.. I’ll let you come again for me.” 

All the things he has been waiting to say all day, left his mouth like a mantra. He tells her just how much of a good girl she truly is — _knows_ she loves the praise. 

He lent up, letting go of the belt, he grabbed her hips and yanked her off the mattress. He slammed her against his chest, and _oh…_ this position felt like they’ve made it through the gates of heaven as his speed had turned dangerous. 

He feels her tighten around him. 

His arm went tight around her stomach, holding her there. His other hand sliding down her hip, pinching them, he made bruises. _Marking her._

His fingers found her clit again. 

He felt his own high threaten to wave over them as his own legs started to shake. 

This is what they both needed. The way he is able to make her feel _exactly like this._ He knows her body more than anyone — than anyone ever has. She’d been made for him, even all those years ago. They way their magic instantly connected, molding them to each other. She’s like a chord that pitches and makes the prettiest sounds he has ever heard in his entire life. 

Even in this exact moment, their magic becomes one. Both feeling it wrap around that part in their lower abdomen. His hand traveled to her sternum, another place that his magic has consumed. He’d found out the first few times they had slept together, his fingers to her sternum is what makes the glass shatter for her. 

“Come.. give me another one, darling— _fuck.. please..”_

The ghost of his mouth surrounded that part of her neck, her pulse that had beat in the center. He held her tight against him as he latched hard to the pressure point. 

That made her scream out. 

_“Gods— fuck!”_ Hermione’s hips slammed up hard three times against his, as his own high started to build up faster. His cock twitched inside her. 

_He hadn’t casted a contraceptive spell._

“Inside… Draco.. inside me.” She moaned, it had come off as nearly a whisper. 

And he knew exactly what she wanted. 

_And.._ he was right there. His thighs trembled — his teeth had made deep bruises on her neck. 

He comes hard inside her. 

Their breathing had matched the other. They stayed in that position, letting her have all of him inside her. 

“Please let me go now.” It had come off as more of a laugh in her tone as her head fell forward. 

He pushed her gently forward, he grabbed his wand and casted a spell to clean them both up. Her skirt had fallen down, covering her backside. 

He’d looked down at her. 

“Hermione, love.. you’ve gotta wear that for me more often. Can’t tell you how fucking hot you made me.” 

“Oh I know— I think I’ve just died..” She had been panting for more than five minutes. Slowly their highs came down together. 

She laid down, her messy legs parted and her hand resting on her chest. 

He’d stood above her, his hand met her face. Rubbing circles around her flushed cheeks. 

“You’re so beautiful.. if I hadn’t already fallen as hard as I have, I think you might’ve just convinced me even more that I’ve met an angel.” She took his fingers, pushed them softly against her lips. Peppering them with small tentative kisses. He melted into them. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Draco..” 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Hermione.” 

* * *

A week had passed. 

They’d finally made it home, at exactly midnight again.

She’d put on that uniform more times than not.. telling him the way he’d fucked her in it convinced her to wear a skirt around him more often. He’d left her trembling for hours. 

Going out to their garden, watching the moon milk the flowers that crowered the front of their home. He wrapped his hand around her waist. The pads of his fingers rubbed against the lower part of her stomach. 

“I’ll call our healer soon..” 

Her head fell against his shoulder, breathing in the spring air. 

“Is this what you want, Draco? I mean.. I know I’ve wanted it for a while, I’d just thought maybe you didn’t after all—” he cut her off with a kiss to her temple. 

“I want everything with you, darling. Anything you want, you know I’d gladly give that. Just have to promise me to wear that sk—” She turned around, playfully hitting chest, he’d smiled bright in her face. Something that made Hermione burst out laughing. 

His hand had rested on her throat. 

“You deserve more than what I could ever give you, the love I have for you quite literally outweighs the universe, having a family will only make the scales break. I _want_ that. There’s no one else that could possibly give that to me. The moment I married you— I felt it. The way our magic had bonded completely, you fucking completed me. It sounds absolutely absurd to others— that I have no interest in hearing. Only _you_ matter and our child will matter all the same. I love you, Hermione.” His hand wrapped around her throat, he guided her head forward, nuzzling it in his chest. 

He heard faint sobs. 

“I don’t think anyone has ever made me feel this much ardour. You do everything— I feel like I have never done enough and then you came and completely eradicated that. I love you more, Draco..” He kissed the top of her head, taking in all of her once more. 

They’d been standing out in their garden for it felt like days had passed. Their hearts intertwined and the salt of their tears stained against one another. 

“I adore you.. always have, always will. You remind me of a symphony, so many shades, ones you’ve managed to make me see. It was all so grey and clouded before you.” He whispered. 

Her head lifted off his chest. 

Her lips crashed into his once more. 

“I’ll just have to keep showing you the tincture, fits well with all the shades you say I remind you of. I suppose you’re the undertone of everything that’s been too bright.” He kissed her forehead. 

fin. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Check out my Instagram and twitter —  
> maraudersreign


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